What's in a Day?
by AelinG
Summary: The life of a Shur'tugal apprentice isn't all fun and games, for the teachers have plenty of challenges in store to keep the apprentices on their toes. Let's take a look into one bumbling apprentice's day, shall we? Revised version of my old story of the same name.
1. Introduction

_A/N: I've decided to rewrite this story because the old one kinda sucked. It will probably be some time until the next chapter is up because it's really busy now with exams and all. Reviews are welcome, till next time!_

* * *

"Eragon - elda, the egg couriers are here to see you."

"Good. Tell them to come in."

Cedric's eyes glowed for a few moments, then in a bright flash of yellow light, two Riders tumbled into the office. One was short, with a red beard that grew to his waist and an axe strapped to his back. The other was twice his height, slanted eyes and angular features that clearly marked him as elf-kind. The elf was getting up from the floor, brushing dust off of himself and doing his best to maintain his dignity.

"You should have let me cast the teleportation spell. Whenever you try to teleport us, I end up sprawled on the ground!" he complained to his companion.

"Well I'm sorry Calwen, but you were taking too long to get ready, and we couldn't keep ebrithil waiting, could we?" the dwarf argued back. The two kept up their childish banter until they were interrupted by a bout of coughing from Cedric.

"Oh, right, urm, sorry," the dwarf apologised, his face turning the same colour as his beard.

Cedric raised an eyebrow at the both of them. "I'll just be taking my leave then. Till next time, ebrithil, Calwen, Irvin," he said, nodding to each of them. He raced up to the window and jumped out. The three still in the office watched as a small white hawk soared away from the tower, catching the warm updrafts that would take it to the Dragon Keep.

Cedric having exited the room, Calwen and Irvin turned to their ebrithil, who was seated at his simple wooden desk.

"So, uh, ebrithil, we've a report for you," Irvin informed the Grand Master, fingering the ends of his braided beard. He was still discomfited by the Second's chiding.

Eragon smiled. "Do you now? May I see it?" he asked

Calwen produced a rolled-up parchment from his tunic, with the Rider's seal stamped on to the paper. He passed the document to Eragon, who deftly spread the paper out on his desk.

"Thank you, you have both done an excellent job. Take the day off, then go visit the hatchery. Alduin and Eo have recently given us two of their eggs," Eragon told them.

The two egg-couriers bowed. "Of course, ebrithil. We shall be off, then." And so they disappeared in another flash of light.

Eragon yawned, rolling the slightly yellowed parchment out flat again. Squinting, he did his best to decipher Irvin's signature scrawled handwriting.

_10th week of Autumn, 8251 AC. _

_In the fifth week of autumn this year, Calwen and I made the trip to Osilon as part of our usual circuit around Alagaësia. Following protocol, we presented the three eggs to a large gathering of seven-and-fifty young elven hopefuls. The orange and green eggs did not hatch, but when we reached the fifth-and-twenty elf, the purple egg instantly grew warm under her touch. _

_The egg hatched a mischievous light purple dragon a few hours later. The elf girl is named Lorelei, while her dragon has not given herself a name yet. We sent them to Ellesmera with a detachment of guards from the city the next day. According to the girl, she is only seven-and-thirty years of age, and was born in the capital. She moved to Osilon when she was of age, though her parents remain in Ellesmera. She is intelligent and quick on her feet, but that is to be expected of all elves. _

_Having passed through all the elven cities, we moved on to the human cities, specifically the Spine settlements. None of the eggs hatched for the first few towns we visited. _

_In the seventh week of autumn, we arrived in Teirm. The orange egg hatched for a human girl named Clara. She was scared to touch the egg at first, but after a bit of encouragement she finally had the courage to make contact with it. She asked Calwen many questions about our Order, not all of which we could answer. The girl is obviously a curious one, and Calwen thinks she has potential. He took her personally to Ellesmera as it would be too far and too dangerous by horseback (She is only seven years of age.) Her dragon has named himself Miles. _

_I was shocked to find that just another two weeks later, while visiting Aberon, the third and final egg, a green, hatched as well, for a feisty, fair-haired girl named Mar. This is only the second time in my egg-couriering assignment that all the eggs in one batch have hatched in the same year. Mar's dragon has not given herself a name yet either. I brought the girl to Ellesmera a few days later after she had packed and said her farewells. _

_All three new Riders are now under the tutelage of our representative in Ellesmera, Quil Jaspersson, until they and their dragons are strong enough to make the flight to New Vroengard. I reconvened with Calwen at the city and we decided to return to Vroengard to get more eggs. _

_We expect the three Riders to arrive at New Vroengard in about a month's time. _

_Signed,_

_Irvin Kvistorsson, Rider of Murray Strongclaw _

Eragon rubbed his eyes, having strained them reading the nearly illegible report.

"Interesting… I wonder if there is a pattern to the hatching…" he murmured to himself.

The Grand Master rolled the parchment back up, placing it on the shelf against the left wall, before hurrying out of the room. His students would be growing impatient.


	2. Rise and Shine

_Oh finally I am done with this chapter :D It turned out longer than I expected... _

* * *

A typical day for any human would start with waking up. Since Clara was a human, one would expect the first thing for her to do every day was to wake up too, right?

Not so for the 15 year old Rider.

The first thing she did every morning was to roll off her bed in her sleep before unceremoniously opening her eyes to find herself on the hard wooden boards of her room. Not feeling very awake, she simply lay there, staring up at the ceiling, eyelids threatening to close and send her back to her dreams. Soft sunlight filtered in through the window, reflecting off the dust dancing about in the air. With the room completely silent save for the sound of birds chirping outside, it was quite a nice experience.

"_Good morning, dear Rider,_" greeted a loud voice in her mind, breaking the quiet.

"_Morning… Miles…" _she said to him sleepily.

"_Don't just lie there. Go and get ready for the day!" _Miles urged. He bumped his mind against hers, and she returned in kind.

"_Could you please stop attacking my mind for _one _morning?"_ she pleaded, rolling over onto her stomach, accidentally banging her forehead against the floor. Clara grimaced. That'd be another bruise for her this morning.

"_Not until you _get up_," _her dragon insisted. He bumped against her mind again.

"_Well, I—" _Clara's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of furious knocking at her door. Was there a woodpecker outside? _Maybe _Miles _sent the bird to irritate me_, she thought. The sound would have been noisy enough under normal circumstances. It was even more piercing to her ears in the early hours, while she was still half-asleep.

"CLARA! Getupnowwearegoingtobelatefordutygetupgetup!" Well, not a woodpecker, but close enough.

Summoning her willpower, she pulled herself up from the floor, grabbing onto the bed for support, then headed over to the door. The cold floorboards creaked underneath her feet. The doorknob turned on its own accord, and Clara had to jump out of the way as the door unexpectedly swung open to let someone crash into her room. All she saw was a flash of yellow hair before she was nearly tackled to the ground. The blonde intruder, pushed along by momentum, skidded halfway into her room until she was stopped by the bed. She spun around to face Clara.

"Clara! What are you still doing in your sleeping clothes? Go get ready!" said the unwanted visitor, eyeing her current attire with disdain. "We've duty at the kitchen today!"

Clara sighed, rubbing her eyes. They stung and watered slightly from the contact. "Mar, if you don't get out of my room, how am I supposed to 'get ready'?" she pushed her friend towards the door. "I will be out in 5 minutes, I promise."

"You better. If we don't get there on time Welden's gonna give it to us," Mar said, shivering at the thought. "I'll be timing you. See ya!" and she rushed out towards the dining hall. Clara slammed the door shut behind her, leaning against the wood. She let out another sigh. Finally quiet again. She glanced over at the sundial at her window. Fifteen minutes to get ready. She guessed that would have to do.

"_Go on, get going." _Miles said. "_I'll just be waiting." _

"_You lucky ball of scales. You get to sleep in while I have to wake up early for kitchen duty."_

_"__Well, you get perks when you've got scales and wings. Maybe you should try growing some too."_

_"__No thank you Miles, I think I'll stay as I am for now." _

Clara staggered sleepily over to her small bathroom. There was one installed in every senior apprentices' room, a nice change from the days when she had to share the large bathing chamber with the other apprentices. She valued her privacy.

The first thing she noticed when she entered her bathroom was her reflection in the mirror. _I'm in a terrible mess… _Clara's orange - streaked brown hair was so dishevelled and knotted that she was already wincing at how difficult it was going to be to untangle it. Her usually vibrant blue eyes were dull, with the skin beneath her eyes puffed up and dark. The long tunic she wore to sleep was badly wrinkled. Clara sighed. It would take her a while to clean up, so she decided that she'd better get started.

As she brushed her teeth, Miles talked to her about his sleep last night. "_I was sleeping near to Nydian, did you know he's been snoring recently? And pretty loudly, too." _Nydian was the dragon of one of the other senior apprentices — Kalry. "_He started snoring in the middle of the night, and I tried to move, but unfortunately my tail was stuck under someone, and to my misfortune it turned out it was Jourgath!_" That was Biruk's dragon. "_You know I would never anger Jourgath, that male's got issues, just like his Rider."_

Clara spit out the sharp tasting foam in her mouth. "_Biruk isn't crude… he just has a slightly shorter temper than the rest of us. In fact he has a wonderful temper for an Urgal." _

_"__Ho ho, that may be so, but dragons are a different story. We speak our minds! And that Jourgath's got an especially loud one. I was, I am ashamed to admit, a tiny bit nervous of waking him up. I mean, you wouldn't want someone yelling at you when you're feeling tired and sleepy, would you?"_

_"__No, not at all." _She rinsed her toothbrush, placing it to the side of her sink. Now to untangle that birds' nest on her head. "_So what did you do?" _

"_i tried to slowly inch my tail out from under Jourgath. Everytime he stirred I would stop, wait, and listen for his breathing to quieten before pulling my tail out again. Nerve-wracking, I tell you. Finally when the tip of my tail got free I went over to the other side of the cave, next to Hraustr. But then! Jourgath got up. If I had skin like you two legs I would have paled." _

Clara tugged at the comb stuck in her hair. _Ouch, ouch, ouch. This is not working. _"_Really, Miles? Are you _that _scared of Jourgath?" _

"_Not scared, exactly. Dragons don't get scared,"_ he said with a hint of pride in his voice. "_Just — exasperated, in a sense. I just knew that he was gonna rant at me for the rest of the night for — for, I didn't know, unbalancing him in his sleep? Who knows with him."_

_Maybe I should use magic. What were the words? _"_Oh come on. Is Jourgath really that foul-mouthed?" _

_"__Not when his Rider's around. Biruk's language is much more tame. He doesn't like it when Jourgath speaks badly to all of you — his friends. Just us dragons, though? Oho, he can make our ears bleed. Even Selthorn has trouble telling Jourgath to calm down. Though I must say that colourful language of his can get quite funny when it's directed at our prey." _

Clara muttered a few words in the Ancient Language. Her hair unknotted itself, flowing down to a few inches below her shoulders. _Yes! _"_Surely you dragons or Biruk must have talked to him about his language already." _

_"__We have, but it's difficult for him to change. He's been like this since the start of apprenticeship. Old habits die hard." _

Exiting the bathroom, she quickly swapped her sleeping clothes for the standard flight gear that was issued to all apprentices at the start of their apprenticeships. There was Aerial Combat today, she remembered, Miles' favourite subject. While she was still a junior apprentice, her master Lennox-elda had been extremely impressed by Miles' stamina.

"He's got strong wings. I'd estimate that when he grows up he could fly for a few days against a headwind," the veteran dwarven Rider had remarked. Clara had noticed her dragon's toughness too, when he was a hatchling and had flown from their quarters in Tialdarí Hall all the way to the edge of the city. Thus she had named him Miles, for the long distances he would one day fly.

"_Anyway, turns out he only wanted to fly out for a short hunt. You have no idea how relieved I felt! So I went back to sleep." _

Clara checked the flimsy piece of paper that was her timetable tacked onto her closet door. There was Music and Arts lesson today, and she grumbled as she swept a couple of pencils, a notebook and her flute into her satchel. That would be all she would need for the day.

"_Interesting story Miles. What's the time now?" _she looked over to her small sundial. Oh great, only five minutes left!

"_Thank you. And as for the time, I think you should hurry." _Clara swung her satchel over her shoulder and rushed out of the room.

* * *

In the hallway outside her room, Clara found two of her fellow apprentices chatting next to the Hungry Dragon statue. The statue was called that because the stone dragon on the pedestal had its jaws wide open, claws outstretched, its unblinking eyes fixated on the small shrubs that had been planted around it. Since it looked like it was hunting the plants, but would never get them due to it being petrified in rock, they nicknamed it the Hungry Dragon.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin, Clara," said the silver-haired apprentice in a soft lilting voice. "Leaving early for the kitchens?"

"Yes Lorelei, and if I don't hurry, both Welden _and _Mar will kill me, so I'll talk to you both later," Clara told her, one foot already towards the staircase.

"Alright. We shall see you at breakfast!" said the other, shorter apprentice, the dwarf Byron.

Clara rushed down the staircase, two steps at a time, practically leaping down two flights of stairs. At the foot of the stairs she lost her footing, forcing her to grab onto the railing for balance, cursing. _Careful now… _Clara quickly made her way across the Quadrangle, her boots clacking against the marble floor, echoing off the walls. There were a few Riders in the large room, reading or walking about or talking. Each of them greeted her, and Clara smiled back as she ran. Everyone who lived at the Rider's Hold knew each other. She wasn't very sure what the Quadrangle was for. It had never been used for anything major since she arrived on New Vroengard, nor had she bothered to ask about its purpose.

Now down the hallway at the eastern side of the Quadrangle. The large windows gave her a view of the valley below, thriving with vegetation and unseen creatures. Several white birds were circling below. Clara couldn't tell what species they were from where she was up high in the castle, but she guessed they were probably the strange albino hawks native to the island. Their snowy plumage was a stark contrast to the dark foliage of the forest below, their feathers glinting under the morning sun.

At the end of the long hallway Clara finally reached the dining hall in the front section of the castle. She stopped to catch her breath — it had been a long run from her quarters in the western wing. The dining hall was to her left, behind the great oaken doors carved with intricate patterns and images, mainly of plants and animals. In the middle of the doors was the carving of a sleeping dragon with one eye open, curled up around a white dragon egg. Clara went up to the doors. To her surprise the door was half open, leaving a gap through which she could slip through.

The kitchens could be accessed through a small door at the back of the dining hall. Her satchel flying behind her, Clara finished the last stretch of the run for the kitchens, barging her way into the humid cooking room.

"There you are! Just in time, too. Go and help Veorun over there chop some vegetables. Quick!" Of course, the very first person to spot her come in was Welden, the senior Rider in charge of those on kitchen duty. Clara had been hoping to snitch some food first before he caught her, though it seemed she had been unable to evade his sharp eyesight.

Sighing, she dumped her satchel at the door, heading towards Veorun who was standing at the far end of the kitchen. None of the other Riders, not even Mar, had turned to acknowledge her when she walked in. They were all busy getting breakfast ready before the rest of the Order came filing in. They Riders had no servants — the Grand Master had insisted that they be self-sufficient. It was a noble idea, but sometimes Clara wished she didn't have to do all these tiring chores.

"Need some help?" she said to the junior apprentice. Veorun shrugged, passing her a couple of onions. Clara frowned and slid a knife out from its holder. She had never been skilled at the cutting board.

"_It's easy, my orange two-leg. Chop the top off the onion, then cut it in half. Peel the skin—"_

_"__I know how to cut an onion Miles. I'm just not good at it." _

_"__Just be careful where you place your blade." _

_"__Thank you _so _much for making that obvious."_

_"__You are most welcome! Don't forget to wash the onion first."_

Clara brought the onions over to the sink. Turning the knob to the right, cold water gushed out from the tap. Before she let anymore water get wasted, she took an onion and rinsed it briefly under the water. While she did that she took a look at the menu that had been drawn up on the chalkboard. _Toast… cereal… bacon… fruit salad… onion soup! I guess that's what these are for._

She hurried back to the cutting board with the onions and picked the knife back up again. Clara glanced at the dwarven apprentice next to her. He was slicing the onions with astonishing precision, taking only a few seconds to deal with each one. After he was done with an onion he'd scoop them up and dump it into the wooden bowl. One of the other Riders would come from time to time to take the onions to cook it into the soup.

"Ten minutes to breakfast everybody! Chop chop! Especially you, Clara. I don't see you chopping," Welden scolded.

Biting her lip, she sliced up her first onion, a bit of the juice squirting onto her hands. She sniffed. The onions were making her tear up. The next onion slipped out of her hands because she had forgotten to dry it, while for the third one Clara accidentally drew blood, smearing the onion with red. Oh how she wished she could use magic!

_"__I _told _you to be more careful!" _Miles sang.

"_Why don't you go hunting instead of bothering me about my kitchen skills!" _

_"__That sounds like a great idea, but I'm afraid you will mess up again. Hunting will take my attention off of you."_

_"__It's alright! Just — go!"_

_"__Very well, very well, since you're so eager to see me leave…" _Miles blocked her out from his mind. Clara rolled her eyes. That was her dragon for you.

A few minutes later she had finished her share of the onions. It would have been so much easier if she had been allowed to use magic, but the Grand Master had also decided that they were to do this kind of thing manually, to reduce their reliance on magic if ever the Riders were cut off from it. Another practical yet tedious idea. Clara wiped off her sweat with the hem of her tunic. None of the windows in the kitchen were upon now, so all the heat was trapped in there.

The Rider in charge of the soup came over to pick up the last batch of onions. "Thanks a lot!" he smiled. "I think the soup will taste great."

Clara gave him a sheepish grin. _If only he saw me cutting them… _

"Clara, Veorun, could you kindly help Mar place the bread on the table?" Welden asked.

"Yes, ebrithil," the dwarf answered for the both of them.

Mar was more than happy to see the two of them step forward to help. "Clara, you take this, Veorun, take this," she said, gesturing towards the plates. "I'll take this then! Okay let's go."

The three apprentices moved out of the kitchen. Clara followed behind Mar, having trouble balancing the many plates she was carrying. Before she could drop them, Clara placed the plates next to Mar's in the middle of the table. Already there were a few Riders filing into the dining hall.

"Done and done! Let's go sit down! Go!" Mar said.

Veorun walked over to the opposite side of the table. Clara and Mar took their seats at their usual spot near the end of the table, near the doors. They watched as the other members of their Order slowly filled up the seats along the long dining table. The older Riders took their place around the middle of the table, sitting next to those they were closer to. Their colourful swords were hidden in their scabbards, showing only the ornate hilt. Clara eyed the weapons longingly. She couldn't wait till she finally graduated from apprenticeship. A few of them had axes and daggers and lances instead of swords, all made of the same brilliant metal that was brightsteel.

Elders, the most senior Riders in the Order who had a position on the Council, went to the head of the table. There were eight Elders in total, with each of the four major races in Alagaësia equally represented on the Council. Though their clothing was no different from anyone else's in the room, they were easily identified by an aura of power and command that surrounded each of them. That, and also the distinctive dragon pin they had fastened to their collar or their cloaks. Each pin was unique to each Elder, fashioned in likeness to their dragons.

Apprentices sat at the end of the table. There were sixteen of them in total, making up less than a quarter of all the Riders. The apprentices were further divided into junior and senior, juniors still undergoing basic training, while seniors were learning advanced content. The age range of the apprentices was varied as well, with the youngest being just ten years of age, and the oldest was five-and-forty years old. Despite this, the apprentices mixed around well, not caring that the person they were talking to was twice as old or young as them. Or, in Lorelei's case occasionally, four times as young.

As time passed, Clara felt her stomach grow emptier and emptier. She couldn't wait for breakfast! Oh, the food was right there in front of her and she could just reach forward to grab some of that fruit, but she couldn't. Breakfast either started _exactly _at the eighth hour, or when everyone had arrived. With the seat at the head of the table still empty, Clara estimated that she had to wait one more _blasted _minute before she could eat. Out from the corner of her eye she watched Mar fidget in her seat.

Finally, right when the bell started chiming to mark the start of the day, the last Rider entered the dining hall: Eragon Shadeslayer himself. The Grand Master took his seat at the front, in between his Second and his Third. His russet brown eyes sparkled as he contemplated the assembly gathered for their morning meal.

"I'm apologise for my tardiness, so let's begin!"

Mar darted forward to grab the still warm bread on the table, chomping hungrily on the roll. "Butter? Clara where's the butter?" she asked, her words muffled by the bread in her mouth.

"Here." She passed a jar to her.

Blue sparks suddenly flew across the table, exploding right in Clara's face. "What the heck?" she asked, shocked. The smoke from the sparks rose to the ceiling.

"Sorry Clara!" said the apprentice across from her. "I was just practicing before Standard Magic later — guess I still need to work on my spell."

"Alright… never mind, Kalry." The boy gave her a sheepish smile. For some reason he was always wearing goggles, strapped around his head with a band of leather. His spiky black hair poked out of the leather circlet. Clara assumed they were to keep dust out of his eyes.

The soft clinking of plates and cutlery mixed with the din created by the Riders' conversations. For a while Clara remained quiet, slurping at her bowl of steaming onion soup, talking to Miles with her mind.

"_You've eaten yet, Miles?"_

_"__I am currently having a scrumptious chunk of gignat, which I must say is not as bad as I thought it would be."_

_"__Gignat?"_

_"__You know, those bison things that graze on the plains. Really musky flavour, a bit like snalglí, only stronger and meatier." _

_"__You've eaten snalglí before? When?"_

_"__Don't you remember? When Murtagh-elda returned a few years back, he brought along a shipment of items from Vroengard, including a batch of fresh snalglí meat. Never before had my tastebuds sang at a snack."_

_"__Oh, I remember now. He had uncovered a few Rider swords from the rubble too." _

_"__And one of them was orange! It could become yours one day, hmm?" _

Clara laughed. "_Hopefully, when I graduate." _

"_By Mimring's scales!" _Miles abruptly cursed._ "Tytus-elda is calling us for an early flying exercise… I'll have to abandon my breakfast, drat. I shall meet you at Aerial Combat!" _

_"__Alright! Try and outfly Avrae for once?" _

_"__I'll try, but I'll probably fail." _Miles withdrew from her mind.

Clara jumped when Mar suddenly bumped her with her elbow. "Stop talking to your dragon and listen!" she whispered, gesturing towards the front of the table.

"Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but I have something important to tell you all," Eragon announced. "I'm sure most of you know Murtagh and Thorn?"

The assembly replied in the affirmative. "Then you will all be most pleased to know that the pair will be arriving to our island tonight."

The hall broke out into excited buzzing. Mar nearly choked on her food when she heard the news. "Clara, can you believe it! Murtagh Wolfsbane is coming!" she squealed. Though she vehemently denied it, Mar was an extreme fan of the dark-haired Elder. "He's coming! He and Thorn Bloodwing are coming!"

"Calm down, Margaret. You're spraying crumbs everywhere," said an arrogant voice. "I know you are _desperately _in love with my uncle, but there is no need to share your mouth contents with us."

Mar turned bright red. Clara chuckled at her friend's embarrassment, immediately stopping when Mar glared at her. "Terrin, you can shut up," she growled. "And don't call me Margaret."

The green-eyed boy laughed. "I can call you whatever I want. And you know it's true, _Margaret_, you are an insane Murtagh-fanatic."

Clara was about to open her mouth to defend Mar — she agreed with Terrin, but Mar _was _her friend — then saw another dark-haired Rider walking over, and merely smirked at the annoying boy. He was about to get his comeuppance.

"What's this talk I hear of my father?" Malak suddenly popped in. Terrin's eyeballs nearly bulged out of their sockets when the Rider stuck his head in between his chair and Kalry's. Clara and Mar sniggered at his reaction.

"Malak! Shouldn't you be eating with the other Riders?" Terrin asked. "Unseemly of you to be hanging out with us apprentices, don't you think?"

"Do not pose such rhetorical questions, cousin, and answer mine," Malak said.

Terrin snorted. "Margaret here was just raving about Uncle Murtagh."

"I was not _raving_."

"You so were!"

"That's enough!" Malak cut in before the two of them could engage in another huge verbal battle. "Anyway, I'm not here to talk about Father, I need to speak to Margaret—"

"Ebrithil, please don't call me Margaret."

"I need to speak to _Mar _about her performance in class, so, if you will," Malak said to her. The blonde sighed, jumped out of her chair and followed Malak out of the dining hall. Clara watched her back as she exited the room, grinning. Mar was not very good at Malak's subject, Dragon Lore, owing to her constant fidgeting and short attention span. It was a subject that required one to sit for long periods of time and listen to the teachers tell an anecdote from the dragons' history, a difficult feat for one as impatient as Mar. Hence Malak would always get a headache whenever he was teaching her. Recently he and his dragon Shadow had been giving her extra lessons, but even with those she was still slightly behind the rest of the class.

"What a—"

"Not. A word," Clara warned, picking her bowl up to sit next to Lorelei. Now that Mar was gone, Terrin would probably switch his sights to her, and she did not want any trouble from him. She would be safer next to the serious, no-nonsense elf next to her.

"Good morning, Clara," Lorelei greeted. "You might want to rush to finish that soup. Breakfast is nearly over."

Clara downed the remainder of her soup in one gulp. "Done!"

"That was not a good idea," Lorelei informed her, frowning. "You could have scalded your throat."

"Thanks for the concern Lorelei, but I'm good."

The minutes passed and breakfast ended as the bells chimed again. Eragon gave the assembly his customary thanks for attending the meal, then exited the dining hall with the other Elders following behind him for their daily council meeting, after which the rest of the Riders stood up and headed out as well to fulfil their various responsibilities. Those on clean-up duty would have the tedious job of collecting all the tableware and washing them. Clara was relieved that she did not have that duty that day. She'd be making her way to the Arts Hall for her first lesson of the day: Music and Arts.

"Clara! You're having Music and Arts too, right?" asked Karly, bouncing up to her. He had his haversack slung over his shoulder. Clara could see his notebooks and flute protruding against the thin fabric material as the bag jounced against his side.

"Right," she confirmed. If only she could have his enthusiasm and cheerfulness. Music and Arts was plainly the most boring subject in their curriculum. "Where's Biruk? He's in class with us too."

"Hrm, I think he went ahead already."

"Never mind then, let's get going. Sílora-elda would not be happy if we are late."

Thus the two apprentices rushed out of the dining hall, Clara dreading the boredom she would be suffering for the next half and one hour.

* * *

_Keep calm and hit that review button! _


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